The tide rushes in upon the sand,
Waters foam and churn in indecision,
Coming and going in an endless dance.
Cry of gulls and sand piper calls,
Mingle with the enchanting song of the sea,
Weaving a spell over the land,
Calling the sailor back to the restless waves.
The mistress of a thousand mortal souls,
She's a moody siren, a playful maiden,
One moment wild with storm, the next still and silent.
Mysterious and deep, she hides a wondrous world,
The sun melts upon her breast as the day ends,
Dark waters whisper gently upon the golden sands.
A thousand stars glitter above,
Like the tiny lights of the fishing boats below.
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